The Sacrifice

by Donna Collins

  “We’re fifteen miles away from Fowey by road. Trust me. It’s way quicker in the long run.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Look, I have no reason to trust you, and if I still had a police station, you’d be locked away in a cell right now. I have no idea why you want to help Eliza, and right now I don’t care. This is my goddamn car, and I’m telling you the quickest route is by road.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

  “Get the crown,” James yelled to Mr. McKenzie over the storm.

  Dust and sand rose off the ground to join the gust, swirling higher and higher into the air. The wind tore through Eliza’s hair, the grit scratching her skin. She cried out, begging her father to end the nightmare. James lifted a crown woven entirely of thorn branches and placed it on Eliza’s head. He surveyed her for a second, his eyes sparkling with excitement, then pressed the barb into her skull. Inch-long spikes pushed through Eliza’s brunette hair and pierced deep into her skin. Blood trickled into her eyes and down her neck, and a shriek screamed past her lips, but anything more required effort and energy, and she had neither.

  “There.” James stood back, seemingly to admire his work. “Now you look like your distant ancestor before you.”

  Eliza didn’t respond, her eyes half-closed. She wanted nothing other than freedom from the pain. She wanted to die.

  James slapped her across the face. “This is an honour. You should be proud of what you are about to achieve.” He gripped the crown and wiggled it, as if checking it was secure.

  Eliza winced, and felt further blood trail her face.

  “Now get this thing upright and planted in the ground,” James said to Mr. McKenzie, pointing to the Cross.

  Eliza felt her father’s breath warming her neck. “You’re going to like this, my dear.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

  The yellow hybrid sped around the fountain and pulled to a stop outside James Hamilton’s home.

  “Hurry,” Roman said, jumping from the car and fighting the ferocity of the storm between him and the front door. “We have to stop Davis before he opens the Gateway.”

  “You mean before he kills Eliza, right?” Billy raced up the steps behind him.

  “If we stop him opening the Gateway, we stop him killing Eliza.”

  They rushed into the house, gales and debris gushing in behind them.

  “This way,” Roman said, leaving the door open and taking off along the corridor. He stopped in front of two oak doors and tried the handles. The room was locked. “Stand back.”

  He backed up and mounted a firm kick against the panelled wood. The doors smashed open, and he strode inside. The room was empty. “There’s a secret door in the bookshelf over here.”

  Roman began to yank random books from the shelves, only stopping when Billy made no attempt to help. “Don’t just stand there.”

  “I’d help if I knew what the hell you were doing.”

  “One of these books is the release mechanism.”

  Billy started towards the shelf. Book after book flew over Roman’s shoulder until...

  Click.

  Roman paused. “That’s it.”

  The shelf swung inwards.

  “How on earth do you know about this?”

  Roman headed into the tunnel. “I saw the old man come through it.”

  When he didn’t hear Billy’s footsteps following, he turned. “What’s wrong? Scared of the dark?”

  Billy stood in the doorway, his expression stone-like. He raised his hands in surrender, an odd motion given what they were doing. Then, he twisted slightly to reveal Davis, a sword in his hand, its tip pressed into the upper part of his back.

  For a split second, Davis’ disbelief at seeing Roman alive betrayed him. “You heal quicker than I gave you credit for.”

  “Surprised?” Roman said.

  “Disappointed.” Davis moved the sword to Billy’s shoulder, resting its edge against the side of his neck.

  “Are we really going to play this game?” Roman said.

  “What game’s that?”

  “Oh, the one where I ask where the girl is, and you reply that you don’t know.”

  Davis smiled. “No. She’s here.”

  Billy glanced at Roman. “Looks like I was right.”

  Roman forced a smile. “Yeah, you called it.”

  “Unfortunately,” Davis said, “you’re too late.”

  “I don’t think so.” Roman paced back towards the door. “If we were too late, you wouldn’t be here.”

  Davis pointed his index finger at Roman and grinned. Instantly, Roman cried out. His leg crippled beneath him and he fell to his knees.

  Roman clasped his shin and felt the bone protruding out beneath his trousers. He took a breath and re-stood, holding the wall for support. He needed to buy time for his leg to heal. “How many times do I have to say it? You can’t stop me.”

  Davis’ index finger extended and again Roman cried out. This time, he clasped his arm. Heavy breaths exhaled wild and quick. “You can’t kill me, you fool.”

  “No, but I can kill him.” Davis gripped the sword with both hands. “You, I just need to keep away from the girl.”

  With a flat palm, Billy twisted and pushed the sword up off his shoulder. He dropped into a lunge and the blade scraped his ear, immediately drawing blood. Billy grabbed Davis’ wrist and locked his hand. The heavy sword dropped to the floor, the clang of steel vibrating for several seconds. He pulled Davis close. “Where is Eliza?”

  Roman watched, hardly impressed at the simple move or the fact Billy had just defeated a man of such advanced age.

  Davis laughed. Not a flicker of emotion crossed his eyes.

  “I want to know where Eliza is.”

  Davis laughed harder.

  “All these years... She thought you were her friend. I thought you were my friend.”

  “She’s nothing more than a vessel.” Davis raised his index finger.

  Billy clenched his fist. He punched Davis square on the jaw. “You piece of shit.”

  Davis’ legs buckled beneath him, and he fell to the floor.

  Billy grabbed him by his tie. “Tell me where she is.”

  “It’s her destiny to die.”

  Billy eyed the old man. Then he punched him again.

  “Wait,” Roman hobbled inside the library. He knelt beside Davis and grabbed his hand. With the old man’s fingers clenched in his palm, he squeezed until he felt every one of the bones break.

  The old man cried out, but Roman continued to squeeze. Giving one last twist, he grabbed what little tuft of hair was left on the old man’s head and yanked it back until he could see every bloodstained tooth in his mouth. “Try and break me now, you little fuck.”

  Davis chuckled through his tears. “You know nothing.”

  “That’s it. I’ve had enough.” Billy pushed Roman aside. He reclaimed his hold on the butler’s tie. “Last chance. Where’s Eliza?”

  “Fulfilling her destiny.”

  Billy punched Davis, over and over until Roman pulled him away. Davis’ body spilled across the floor, unconscious – maybe even dead.

  Roman picked up the sword. He handed it to Billy. “Feel better?”

  Billy felt his ear, checked out the blood on his fingertips, and took the sword. “We still don’t know where Eliza is.”

  The sound of the ocean raced through the passageway, bringing with it sand-filled gusts. “I’d say she’s somewhere in there, wouldn’t you?” Roman hobbled back into the tunnel. He shielded his eyes, and followed the torch-lined stones until he found the small room at the far end of the tunnel. His leg ached like hell but, although not as quick as he’d like, at least it was healing.

  “I’ve lived here nearly all my life,” Billy said. “What the hell is this place?”

  Empty crates and straw covered the floor. Iron shackles bolted to the far wall lay unlocked and open. Roman stepped forwa
rd. On the floor, Eliza’s clothes lay discarded and shredded. “He’s used the cat o’ nine tails.”

  Billy took Eliza’s torn shirt and held it out. “Whoa. There’s blood on this. We have to find her. Now.”

  Roman agreed. “Okay, he’d have to construct the Cross outside, right?”

  “How the hell would I know?”

  “There’s another passageway back there.”

  “So?”

  “So, this sea breeze is coming from somewhere.” Roman passed to leave, but Billy stopped him. “You’re perspiring. You okay?”

  “I’ve just had my arm and my leg broken. Of course I’m perspiring.”

  “Then I need to know you’re in this to save Eliza, and not for your own gain.”

  “I am in this for my own gain. But I also don’t want the girl to die.”

  Billy wavered, but dropped his arm and let Roman pass.

  The wind howled through the corridor, and sand stung Roman’s skin, invading his nose and drying his throat. He spat the grit from his mouth, and tucked in close to the side of the tunnel as he stumbled his way through the dark. “We killed Davis, so the storm should be easing by now.”

  “What does it mean that it’s not?”

  “It means we have to hurry.”

  The further they walked, the more ferocious the weather became. Cold air dropped to almost freezing, and the darkness made the wet, uneven floor hard to navigate.

  Roman slipped and cursed at the pain in his leg, but continued onwards, battling against the elements. An iron gate swung open, and he felt his boots sink into the soft sand. “We’re on the beach. Stay close to me.” He waded through the water, the ice-cold almost blotting out the pain, and limped out into the open. Sand swirled through the air, hitting him like tiny razor blades.

  “I don’t see her,” Billy shouted.

  Roman didn’t see Eliza either.

  The faint outline of Billy brushed past him and stopped three feet ahead. He faced away, looking off towards the darkened cliffs. “I know where she is.”

  “Where?”

  Billy pointed towards the top of the cliffs. “Up there.”

  Roman looked up. Nothing. Only darkness merged with darkness. “Are you sure?”

  But Billy had started off towards the cliffs.

  Roman waded through the ocean after him. Freezing water lapped past his thighs, past his hips, around his stomach. Where the hell was the cop leading him? The water level rose up his body with every step he took.

  “Up here,” he heard Billy call out.

  Stone steps emerged through the night. Billy had already climbed the first couple, his pale, bare back the only visible thing left to see. Roman grabbed the iron railing and hauled himself out of the water. “How’d you know about this place?”

  “Eliza and I played here as kids. There’s an old ruin up there.”

  Roman followed him to the top of the cliff. The sandstorm was ferocious as ever, and Roman nearly didn’t see the decrepit tower standing proud in the distance. Inside, shadows danced underneath flame light and cries for help echoed from within, but they were not from Eliza. Roman raced to the entrance, hugging the shadows of the stone walls. Two wooden poles stood erect a couple of metres apart, a male body tied to each. Probably thieves or beggars as history dictated, but nevertheless, sacrificed men. Between them, the True Cross, with Eliza hanging from it like Jesus Christ himself, her scrawny arms stretched to their limit, nail rods puncturing her wrists. Her head lolled on her right shoulder, her face covered by a mess of auburn hair. If it hadn’t been for the lack of the Gateway, Roman would have sworn she was dead already. Bile caught in his throat and he swallowed it back. How could he have played a part in this? Maybe he did deserve to spend the rest of his days in Purgatory.

  Billy came up behind him, Davis’ sword still in his hand. “What’s going on? Is Eliza in there?”

  Roman held back. “Something’s not right. Davis would need to be here when the Gateway opened.” Roman glanced back through the opening. Mr. McKenzie knelt in the far corner, a sword embedded into the dirt beside him, his head tilted, his gaze locked on the floor.

  From a darkened area of the room the flame light didn’t quite reach, a cloaked figure stepped up to the Cross, a dagger gripped between his fingers. He paced the dirt. “Not long now,” he said, rubbing his hands together.

  No sooner had the words left his lips then the wind died.

  “The eye of the storm,” James said. “This is the moment I’ve been waiting for.”

  “That’s my father’s voice.” Billy scrambled for a better view, but Roman held him back.

  James held the dagger out in front of him, an admiring look in his eye. The men either side of Eliza began to wrestle the ropes binding their wrists. James stood centre of the poles, and turned to Mr. McKenzie. “Remove their tops.”

  Mr. McKenzie grabbed the tramp’s grotty shirttail. With one swift slice of his sword, the front severed and parted. Old skin clung around the man’s rib cage. Excess skin, from an age of starvation, sagged around his stomach. Frayed string belted the waist of his trousers. He murmured an objection at the act about to happen, but his voice was weak and barely audible. Mr. McKenzie turned the sword to the second man, cutting through the wool of his cable sweater in a downward motion. Halfway down, he stopped, embedded the blade back into the dirt, and yanked the remainder of the jumper apart.

  “What’s he doing?” Billy clawed past Roman again, this time getting a look inside the tower. His eyes widened at the horror, and he launched himself forward.

  Roman hauled him back and forced him against the wall as best as his broken body would allow. “We’re gonna save her, but just wait.”

  “He’s going to kill them?” Billy tried to get back up, but Roman bit back the pain and held him down. “Game’s over if we run into a trap. You got me?”

  Billy reluctantly nodded.

  Slowly, Roman lifted his weight off and, when he was certain Billy wasn’t about to bolt, he turned back to the tower. There didn’t seem to be anybody else inside.

  “Stop this,” the thief pleaded with James.

  James raised the dagger horizontally until the tip rested against the prisoner’s chest. Roman heard the fear inside the vagrant’s voice as he begged for his life. It was in him, too. Eliza’s own father planned to sacrifice her. And Roman had ignorantly played his part, too well. He glanced again at Eliza nailed to the wood he himself had found, and bile rose in his throat. What had he done? What had he become? What would his Jane think of him now?

  He turned to Billy. “Okay. Go.”

  Billy leapt from the floor and charged the small tower. “Dad!”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  James froze.

  The shocked expression on his face when he saw Billy enter, sword in hand and anger burning in his eyes, said it all.

  Roman hung back and watched from the shadows of the doorway. Hard as he tried not to, his gaze found Eliza. Blood trickled from her hairline, reddening her already bloodied body, the same body Roman had held in his arms and carried from the hospital twenty-four hours earlier. She stared at her father, her eyes filled with fear, and Roman buried the overwhelming urge to rush to her. He felt his leg and immediately the dull ache screamed in pain. Damn it. Both his arm and leg were not healing as fast as he was used to. Whatever voodoo shit Davis had used when breaking them was slowing his recovery now.

  He turned his attention back to Billy. Apart from their father, the only other adversary seemed to be the old guy who, unfortunately for Roman, was built like a brick shit house. Still, his odds could be a hell of a lot worse than two on two. One thing was for sure; whether be took on the old guy or father, this was one battle Roman was going to struggle through.

  “What the hell are you doing, Dad?” Billy raised the sword and edged to Eliza’s side.

  Mr. McKenzie grabbed his sword from the dirt and moved to intervene, but Jame
s motioned for him to stay put. He lowered the dagger from the thief and seemed to take several seconds before he regained his composure. “I must admit, son, you weren’t the one I expected to come save her.”

  Billy ignored him, his sword still pointed towards McKenzie. He pulled at the rope that bound Eliza’s ankles. Secured tight. “Eliza, can you hear me?”

  Eliza looked down at him, but the couple of words she spoke were no more than a whisper.

  McKenzie edged in closer and Billy turned on him. “Drop the sword.”

  “You must be joking, boy.”

  Billy glanced at his dad. “Tell him to drop the sword.”

  “You haven’t really thought this through, have you, son?”

  Now Billy wavered. He pulled on the rope again, a sudden urgency to his movement, and looked up at Eliza when it still wouldn’t unravel. “I’m going to get you out of here, you hear me?”

  “And how do you plan on doing that? You’re outnumbered.” McKenzie slowly circled Billy. Now the two men had him cornered.

  Roman watched the realisation dawn on Billy. His look of fear turned to defeat and then defiance, and a sudden admiration for the cop swelled inside Roman. The guy certainly wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

  Billy pivoted the sword from left to right, unsure at whom to point it.

  “You can’t take us both down, Billy.” McKenzie moved nearer.

  Billy twisted the sword in his direction. “I’m warning you. Stay back.”

  “Kill him, and I kill you,” James said from behind.

  Billy spun on his heel, the sword turning with him.

  It was a classic move and one that was inevitable. Mr. McKenzie seized his chance. He lunged forward. In one swift motion, he smashed his sword handle against Billy's temple. Billy fell and sprawled across the dirt, his own sword sliding a few feet from his grasp. He reached for it but McKenzie grabbed his feet and dragged him away. Billy’s fingers clawed the dirt but Mr. McKenzie was upon him. He had Billy’s face in the dirt and his arm twisted halfway up his back before Billy knew what had happened.